


Cherries

by oceanic_white_tip_37



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asian Character(s), Asian Pansy Parkinson, Basically I imagined them looking like they do on the upthehillart instagram, Black Hermione Granger, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Frustration, ish, no actual dialogue, pining?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 14:34:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14239365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanic_white_tip_37/pseuds/oceanic_white_tip_37
Summary: Hermione Granger always knows exactly what sorts of situations she’s going to get into before she gets into them and has rarely – if ever – been caught off-guard. No one has ever been able to trick her into doing anything that she hasn’t planned out meticulously. She’s always been able to figure them out before things got out of hand, and never let anyone get too close without proper analysis of their personality.Except one.orPansy is infuriatingly seductive and Hermione is an awkward lesbian just trying to LIVE





	Cherries

**Author's Note:**

> These aren't my characters but their pretty badass.  
> Have fun y'all

Hermione Granger really has no idea how she got here. 

Not to say she doesn’t like where she is, but it’s rather a funny thing, if you think about it. Hermione always knows exactly what sorts of situations she’s going to get into before she gets into them and has rarely – if ever – been caught off-guard. No one has ever been able to trick her into doing anything that she hasn’t planned out meticulously. She’s always been able to figure them out before things got out of hand, and never let anyone get too close without proper analysis of their personality.

Except one. 

Pansy Parkinson strolled right on into her life like it was her own – hips swaying and plush lips sucking on a bright red cherry lollipop. They couldn’t possibly let her wear skirts that short. The green plaid hem swayed precariously over white thighs, and a flash of black lace had Hermione’s ears burning and eyes locked firmly on the translation from the textbook in front of her. Little did she know that the raven-haired girl was watching all the while, a smirk tattooed on her plum painted lips. 

Whenever she was in the room, Hermione couldn’t keep her eyes off Pansy. She’d abandon her charms homework in favor of following the pale slope of the other girl’s nose, or the line of her throat when she laughed. Why’s she got to look so bloody attractive when she smiles? Hermione would sigh then, and attempt to return to her essay, knowing full well her gaze would be locked back on her alluring classmate in a matter of minutes. Pansy’s resistance to conforming to the school’s dress code didn’t help Hermione’s case, either. That green plaid skirt only retreated higher up Pansy’s thighs, a fact the bushy haired Brainiac was reminded of every time Pansy “dropped” her things right in front of where Hermione was studying. And the lollipops. 

Godric. 

Hermione knew the candy was usually used to suggest things done to male anatomy but Merlin. Every time Pansy wrapped her lips around the crimson lolly Hermione’s thoughts got a bit, well, unladylike, and she hurried to the toilets to cool her face and tame the heat growing in her core. 

It was infuriating, really. 

Pansy had no right to go around distracting people from their studies like that. It was against school policy – not to mention improper. Someone had to confront her about it. Hermione decided this in the girl’s toilets, having ducked in after seeing Pansy coming down the hallway. She splashed water on her fiery cheeks, secured her glasses, and tried to dash the image of the Slytherin’s half-buttoned uniform from her mind. She took a deep breath and met her own eyes in the mirror. Right. Let’s do this.

The next time Hermione saw Pansy slinking around the secluded Ancient Runes section she marched right up to her and filed her complaints, demanding that Pansy “consider a more modest approach”. How could she possibly think that her actions were anything but inappropriate? It states clearly in the Hogwarts code of conduct that each student who so chooses to wear a skirt must keep them to a length of twelve inches, or – 

This was as far as Hermione got.

Next thing she knew, she was being pressed gently against the library wall, hot lips kissing and sucking on her neck and a cool hand sliding up her skirt to grip her hip – her other held Hermione’s waist. Hermione’s hands rsted lightly on the taller girl’s biceps – having landed there to stabilize herself as the Slytherin spun her against the wall. She didn’t quite know what to do with them now. Of course, she wasn’t complaining about her situation, but it was completely out of the blue. Hermione is never caught out of the blue. A nip on her neck drew a soft sigh from her throat, effectively pulling her out of her thoughts. It was here that Hermione realized she was completely relaxed in Pansy’s hold – and Hermione was never relaxed. But something about the raven-haired girl made her feel adventurous and at home all at once. Pansy didn’t press herself against the shorter girl, nor did she grip her tightly. She held on carefully, as if Hermione was something precious and cherished. It astounded her.   
With a surge of patented Gryffindor courage spurring her on, Hermione took back control of her body, lifting a hand from Pansy’s bicep to rest on her neck. Pansy drew back at this, ebony eyes meeting Hermione’s own with an unguarded, indecipherable gleam. Hermione’s breath caught at their sincerity, and she found herself completely helpless under the Slytherin’s gaze. Something in them sparked a bright flare at the base of her spine, and she surged forward to connect her lips with Pansy’s. 

The taller girl reacted immediately, moving her lips against Hermione’s and holding her gently against her body. She kissed like she had all the time in the world, and Hermione was the one thing she’d spend all that time worshipping. 

Pansy’s tongue flicked playfully at her lips and – oh. Hermione’s knees almost gave out. She steadied herself and flushed, heart stuttering as Pansy tightened her grip on her hip and smiled against her mouth. 

When Hermione made it back to the Gryffindor common room, it was well past dinner, and the sun was beginning to slump lazily on the horizon. The ghost of Pansy’s touch burned like brands on her skin, warming her from head to toe. She smiled instinctively, tongue flicking out to lick her lips as she briskly climbed the steps to her dormitories. 

They tasted like cherries.


End file.
